A Way Out
by Devils'Darling
Summary: "In my haste to put together a defense, I left out a suspect." An idea for Daniel's trial that was suggested but never played out.
1. Chapter 1

"In my haste to put together a defense, I left out a suspect." Victoria's rich voice intones. Daniel's eyebrows knit together, his expression is quizzical.

"What are you talking about?"

"Doesn't it strike you as odd that the bullets that killed Tyler came from Emily's gun? He threatened her, and she had reason to kill him. How do you know she wasn't there?" Daniel remains silent; a part of him that he hates is processing the idea. "You see, that little bit of doubt? It's enough to get you acquitted." Her lips are pursed, her eyebrows raised in suggestion. Daniel realizes immediately what his mother is insinuating. His eyes widen, voice firm despite the injuries from his jailhouse beating.

"No. You bring Emily into this, and I swear to god, I'll confess to the whole thing." He returns his mother's icy glare with one of his own, though it couldn't hold a candle to hers. She stalks away, quietly dignified as always. Daniel turns, facing the sky, disgust at the idea creeping up on him. How could his mother stoop to low? He doesn't even know the half of it.

…

The next day, the family is gathered in the Graysons' impressive living room. Mr. Brooks has called a strategy meeting to ensure Daniel has the most competent defense. As he relays to the family the problem of a certain "Juror #3," Victoria immediately gets an idea to fix it. It's one she'll execute discreetly, to protect her only son. She won't let some prejudiced woman destroy her child's life. Mr. Brooks has moved on to the subject of painting Daniel as sympathetic, pulling Victoria out of her vengeful thoughts.

"…which is why I've decided to put Emily on the stand." Immediately the queen is offended. Emily? That girl does not love Daniel nearly as much as she does. She tries to protest in a polite manner, as is the Hamptons way: cutting down your enemies with disguised insults, complete with a patronizing smile.

"Mr. Brooks, this is an enormous responsibility. Emily isn't even family yet." Mr. Brooks explains that Emily loves Daniel "by choice, not by obligation." Victoria stiffens. The lawyer stresses that it's incredibly important that the jury connect to Daniel, and what better way than through his fianceé? They have lost their hooded man theory, what with the Treadwell Report having gone viral. This is one of their last resorts.

After the meeting is over, Emily kisses Daniel goodbye and retires to her beach house, overwhelmed by the massive amount of notes Brooks has given her to study before her appearance on the stand.

Two hours later, she is buried in the paperwork when she hears a knock on her door. Puzzled, Emily glances at the clock before slowly approaching, her eyes darting to the gun. Nolan would just break in, and Daniel is on house arrest. She apprehensively pulls back the curtain to reveal Jack Porter. He smiles at her warmly, and it's Amanda who smiles back. She opens the door to let him in.

"Jack. I thought you were chasing after Amanda." At his curious look she replies, "Nolan told me. Did you find her?" He takes in the caring way her eyebrows are raised, her lips slightly open. He sees her true concern and feels comfortable to tell her all about his disappointing mission. She lights a fire and they sit in front of it, absorbing the warmth radiating through the house. As they share updates of their lives, providing a listening ear and a shoulder for each other - that's all they can offer – neither is aware that next door, a storm is brewing in Daniel's mind.

Being confined to house arrest makes one restless, and Daniel Grayson is no exception. He steps out onto the balcony from his parents' bedroom, taking in the serene view. Waves ripple the surface of the ocean as their crests brush the sand below. He breathes in the salty air, feeling oddly at peace for an incarcerated man, until his eyes drift down to his fiancee's porch. He can make out a shadowy figure at the door, smiling at Emily. Nolan? The man is peculiar; Daniel means to ask how she and the young billionaire know each other. He slips off the edge where he is perched and walks to the side of the balcony facing her beach house. His teeth grit in frustration and envy when he realizes it's Jack. The do-good bartender has been gone for months – god knows where – much to Daniel's relief. He does not consider himself a paranoid man, unlike his father, but feels that it is justified tonight. Prison can change a man. He reaches into his pocket, but resists the impulse to call Emily and demand an explanation. He is a better man than Conrad. Or so he thought.

It is barely ten minutes later when Daniel is roaming through Grayon Manor, still fuming, searching for his mother.

"Daniel, why are you still awake?" He hears her regal voice bouncing off the walls, turns to see her clicking down the stairs in a silk dressing gown, still in her ridiculously high Jimmy Choos. The sight brings a smile to his face in spite of it all.

"I've reconsidered your offer." He feels terrible about how he left it with his mother earlier tonight, dismissing her idea. She only wants to help. He sees the surprise register on Victoria's face.

"About Emily? Daniel, are you sure about this?" He nods. "What changed your mind?" He hesitates to tell her about Jack, knowing the news will be fuel to her fire of distrust against his fiancée. He wants to handle this on his own; he knows he can. It is his own personal form of vengeance; an outlet for his jealousy. In the end, he resorts to telling his mother,

"I talked to her about it, and she says she's ok with it. She wants to help me." Victoria suppresses the feeling of disgust that overwhelms her.

"How loyal of her." She comfortingly touches her son's shoulder and says, "I'll tell Brooks tomorrow. Now go to bed, Daniel. You need your rest." She gives him a signature Ice Queen smile that he takes as loving.

"Goodnight, mom."

"Goodnight, darling. Sleep well." Victoria clicks her way up the stairs to her bedroom, seething. What is this woman's game? Emily cannot possibly deserve the moral high ground she puts herself on. She removes her earrings, pausing to study them in the mirror, her mind flashing back to the night he gave them to her. Her fingers reach out and touch the reflective glass. "I miss you, David." She is relieved Conrad is not there to hear her. Her love for David is something she will express in private, similar to questioning her son's innocence. If Daniel is truly guilty…no, she refuses to complete the thought. She doesn't want to believe that by implicating Emily as a line of defense, she is turning her into a female version of David Clarke, using her to cover up the crimes of another Grayson; Conrad's son, no less. She is unaware of how frighteningly ironic that is.


	2. Chapter 2

Emily wakes up to knocking on her door. She groans, shoving the sheets off her legs and slowly sitting up. Who could it be this time? The knocking stops as she tosses her hair in a bun and slips on her silk robe. She can smell coffee brewing and catches a glimpse of a bright purple polo as she descends the stairs. She rolls her eyes.

"Didn't peg you for a morning person, Nolan." She quips, picking up a cup of coffee from the kitchen island. He turns to her, the signature smirk absent from his face. She holds the steaming cup in front of her; his expression is unusual and it makes her worry.

"This couldn't wait." He says simply. "I came to see you for a routine plotting session…" here the smirk returns, "and found this on your porch." He hands her a piece of paper, folded and creased where he's read it and tried to make it look like he hasn't. She sets the coffee down and takes it, studying it closely. Her eyes widen in shock and anger as she takes it in.

"Was this part of the plan to save your fiance? Sacrifice yourself for a Grayson?" He asks, more than a hint of irony in his voice.

"What, to subpoena me as a hostile witness? No. My job was supposed to be to testify about all the reasons I love him-"

"Isn't that touching." Her dark eyes flash to him.

"-in order to paint him as sympathetic."

"Of course. So why the sudden turn of events?" Nolan picks up his own coffee and takes a sip, pausing to inhale the aroma. "Did you piss somebody off?" She barely spares him a sarcastic glance before pacing around her kitchen. Confusion is a new feeling to her, and she has to admit it's not her favorite.

"I'm due in court this afternoon at two. So much for all these damn notes." She sinks into her couch, tossing the papers Brooks had given her the previous night. Nolan sits next to her, handing her the neglected coffee, which she slams onto the table in anger. "I'm calling Daniel. There must be a reason for this." Nolan watches as she pulls out her phone and dials her fiance, waiting for the Hamptons mask to slip back on her face, disguised even though he's the only one who can see her. But it doesn't. Her face remains clenched and agitated as the electronic message informs her that _Daniel Grayson is unavailable, please leave a message after the beep._ "Shit!" She slams the phone onto the table next to the steaming mug. Nolan touches her shoulder, giving her back the neglected coffee.

"Whoa, whoa whoa, calm down, Ems. I don't really feel like dealing with a broken cell phone on top of everything right now." He smirks and gets her to soften enough to take the coffee and resume thinking rationally, as she exhales a long sigh.

"This is Victoria's fault. It has to be something she cooked up to drive a wedge between me and Daniel."

"What are you going to do?" Cold resolve sets in her eyes.

"Go with it, at least this afternoon. I can handle whatever Brooks throws at me in court, and I can't afford to sabotage Daniel's trial at this point. Things have been tense between us. I know he lied about what happened on the beach and his alliance is with Victoria at the moment." She snaps through gritted teeth.

"Mama's boy, all the way to the end." Nolan quips. They sit together, studying the court document and waiting, watching as the minutes tick by between them.

…

Nolan doesn't see her again until that afternoon, when he slips into the courtroom undetected. The Graysons and everybody else on the defense side are too preoccupied to notice or care about his appearance, but he does have to put in some effort to avoid the throng of paparazzi clamoring at the front of the courthouse. He doesn't feel like coming up with another convoluted lie as to why he gives a damn about Daniel Grayson. And he doesn't. He's here for Emily.

He doesn't pay much attention to Brooks' opening statement or any of his other arguments until the blood spatter expert testifies that his analysis does not support the theory that Daniel dragged Tyler's body up the beach.

"So there had to have been someone else who did it?" Brooks turns to face the jury, his arms open and voice suggestive. The prosecutor nearly leaps out of her chair.

"Objection your honor, counsel is leading the witness." The judge nods in her direction.

"Sustained." Unruffled, Brooks turns back to his witness.

"In your expert opinion, did Daniel Grayson drag the body up the beach?" Again the prosecutor is on her feet.

"Objection, counsel is harassing the witness. This question has been asked and answered." The judge shrugs and replies,

"It's his witness." Nolan fights a chuckle as he sees Emily do the same, out of Daniel's sight.

"In my professional opinion, Daniel Grayson did not move the victim's body. The evidence suggests that there was another person on the beach that night." Brooks nods.

"Thank you, Mr. Solstein." The man steps down, seemingly relieved to exit the courtroom. Nolan sees the prosecutor shift in her chair, aware that this testimony might have put a dent in Declan's vehement claim that there was no one else on the beach that night.

"The defense calls Emily Thorne to the stand." Nolan sits straight up, his sapphire eyes locked on his blond partner in crime. The judge lowers her glasses as Emily approaches and is sworn in.

"Miss Thorne, you are aware that you are being treated as a hostile witness?"

"Yes, your honor." Nolan marvels at her composure, at the sure way she positions herself, barely sparing a glance for her fiance. He sees Daniel stiffen in his chair. _Good, let the bastard sweat, _the billionaire thinks. He'd be lying if he said he thought Daniel was totally innocent, though he is aware that Takeda bares the true guilt. To him, the young Grayson is the epitome of privileged, party-boy douche. The label fits almost every twenty-something in the Hamptons, but that doesn't stop Nolan from disliking the man. The billionaire's eyes slide sideways towards Jack, who is sitting with his lips in a grim line, his posture slouched, defeated. It's clear he doesn't want to hear what he thinks is going to be a spiel about Emily's undying love for her fiance. The sting of her initial rejection at the fourth of July party, the stress of his brother perjuring himself, and his fruitless search for his childhood sweetheart have left the young bartender in no position to endure any more bad news. Nolan wonders if, somewhere in the deep recesses of his friend's good heart, there is a black spot wishing for Daniel's incarceration. He turns his gaze back to the stand, where Brooks is beginning his direct examination.

"Ms. Thorne. How long have you been seeing Mr. Grayson?"

"Since June." She smiles serenely at her fiance.

"So you were there at his birthday party a few weeks into the summer?" She nods, her expression suddenly somber. Her eyes darken at the memory, her back straight.

"Yes. It was a horrible night. I thought...well I thought I would lose him."

"Can you refresh the jury's memory of what happened that night?" She takes a deep breath, turning to face the panel of twelve.

"Daniel's friend from Harvard, Tyler Barroll had been staying with the Graysons since his arrival here. We didn't know it at the time, but Tyler was...well he was schizophrenic. Apparently, he ran out of his medication and he pulled a gun on us."

"And how did you react?"

"I was scared. And angry. He'd threatened everybody in Daniel's family, including me."

"So you consider yourself a part of the family?" Brooks doesn't have to turn to know that Victoria is driving daggers into his back with her eyes at the mention of Emily as family. Emily knows it too, and_ Amanda_ finds great pleasure in the queen's anguish.

"I am Daniel's fiance."

" And how long have you been engaged to him?" A small smile spreads across Emily's face.

"He proposed toward the end of summer. So about 4 months."

"And you said yes."

"Absolutely." Her eyes shift towards the young Grayson, who is watching with a tight face. Brooks continues, his posture relaxed, arms open.

"Isn't it true, Ms. Thorne, that you would do anything for the protection of yourself and your fiance?"

"Yes.

"And you go great lengths for that protection. You own a handgun, don't you?" She stiffens on the stand.

"Objection Your Honor, counsel is leading the witness." The prosecutor knows she's taking a chance, and unfortunately for her, the judge catches it. She lowers her glasses and directs a condescending stare at the woman.

"Leading questions on direct are permitted with a hostile witness, Ms. Collins." She states dryly. New York City District Attorney Jennifer Collins feels her cheeks burn, before she nods, smoothing her skirt and sitting back down. The judge nods at Brooks. "Continue."

"Yes, I own a handgun." Emily's reply is curt to the point of rudeness.

"Do you love your fiance? Enough to want to save his life from a madman like Tyler Barroll?"

"Yes, I do." Brooks smiles, locking eyes with his witness.

"I would like to submit item 467-B. Forensics analysis of the bullets that killed Tyler Barroll." He places the documents in front of the judge and turns back to Emily, whom the jury is watching with suspicion in their eyes. "Those are the same bullets from your gun, aren't they?"

She grits her teeth, regretting giving in to Tyler's random deal, losing her weapon and her doppleganger all in one. She wonders briefly why she didn't just tell Brooks the truth, allow the shark to go after Takeda instead. She shakes it off. Emily doesn't fear anyone, Takeda included, but she isn't in the mood to become his enemy. She realizes a long time has passed since Brooks asked her the question. "Ms. Thorne?" She still doesn't respond.

"The witness will answer." The judge's tone is harsh.

"Yes, your honor." The judge nods down at Brooks.

"Repeat your question." Brooks takes a step towards the witness stand, from where Emily's gaze is burning deep, as if she can see into his soul. He suppresses a shudder, clears his throat, and asks,

"Ms. Thorne, are these bullets, the ones that were recovered from Tyler Barroll's body, the same bullets that came from your gun?" Emily feels herself inhale deeply, then exhale. _Just like your father: framed to protect a Grayson. Except worse! You are letting them do this to you._ She can feel Takeda's reprimand pounding in her head. Flashes of her father play in front of her eyes: him smiling, him being led away by the FBI, him telling her to forgive. She catches Nolan's pitying, disappointed glance directed at her. She opens her mouth to answer.

"Yes, but-"

"No further questions, Your Honor." Brooks knows he's cut it close. At any moment, the judge could declare this sufficient evidence to dismiss all charges against Daniel and bring the charge of Murder 1 over Emily's head instead.

The prosecutor rises in her chair, and walks toward Emily, the epitome of calm.

"Ms. Thorne, you said that you've been seeing Daniel Grayson since summer. Isn't it true that he also lives at your beach house?"

"Before house arrest, yes."

"And didn't you show him your gun?"

"He found it in a drawer. But I kept it hidden after that."

"Yet he still had access to it." The prosecutor states. She take a breath before continuing. "You never had any direct confrontations with Mr. Barroll, did you?" Brooks is expecting this. A small smile spreads over his face.

"Actually, Daniel and I went out to dinner with him and his girlfriend-"

"Miss Ashley Davenport."

"Yes. The conversation got pretty heated between me and Tyler. Eventually he stormed off." The prosecutor blinks, clearly not expecting this. Brooks' palm moves to conceal his widening, sly smile.

"Uh-but, it was only Daniel who was found near his body, correct?"

"Yes. I was inside the party tent when the body was found." She glances at Brooks and he nods, as she emphasizes that last part. So not necessarily when the murder happened, is the message they want to send. The prosecutor catches the glance, feeling her teeth grit.

"No further questions Your Honor." Brooks stands.

"May the witness be excused?" The judge nods. As Emily passed the lawyer, she gives a small nod and he reciprocates, miming the tip of a hat. They have achieved the perfect balance: create enough reasonable doubt without fully implicating Emily, with the prosecutor's unwitting assistance on cross.

After court lets out, Emily staggers home like a drunk, exhausted and ready to fall into bed, with a sudden desire to be alone. Her heels carry her up her porch steps, where a blond in an unusually subdued outfit waits.

"How does it feel to be a murder suspect?" Her gait slows.

"What do you want, Nolan?"

"I came to check up on you. Quite a stunt Daniel's lawyer pulled in there." She refuses to meet his eyes, steering the conversation in another direction as she sits beside him on the swing.

"You asked me once if I would come clean for Jack." Her fingers trace the carved white wood they are sitting on.

"And you didn't answer me." His signature smirk crawls across his face. She sighs, at once irritated with him and pleased he can see her truth without her having to expose it.

"I didn't come clean. But it's the most that I can do for him."

"I can't believe you'd do that. And put your safety in danger?"

"The prosecutors aren't going to charge me. They know it was a last ditch attempt on our part. They'd never get a successful conviction going after me. Besides, it's not like I could expose Takeda or frame Amanda. You saw how easily Tyler was able to turn her against me." He nods somberly, the very mention of Tyler calling up memories he'd rather suppress, and she shakes her head. "I can't afford any more mistakes." She sighs and smiles slightly. "Besides, it's not like I went in unprepared." Confusion ruffles his brow. It makes her smile widen, to see that she is in control of a situation again, that the confusion is not hers. He knows the game, knows her need for power when she's been suppressed her entire life. He goes along with it.

"You were...prepared?" He'll even amp up the ignorance factor for her sometimes, just because he cares. He wonders if she can see right through him. She grins.

"Brooks came to see me, right after you left. He…convinced me to go along with it."


	3. Chapter 3

_Flashback: Morning of Emily's testimony, shortly after Nolan has left._

The cold, running, sink water that Emily is using to wash out her coffee mug almost drowns out the subtle click of her front door. She turns, apprehensive and tense, realizing she can't see the intruder from her position. She shifts to the stairs, pulling out her gun and aiming it, even getting out a stern warning,

"Nolan, if that's you I will shoot you for sneaking up on me like that," before seeing a pair of dark hands held up in the air in surrender.

"Oh trust me, Ms. Thorne, I wouldn't want to find myself in the path of your gun." She lowers her weapon, replacing her heiress look.

"Mr. Brooks. I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else." She chuckles, sliding the gun smoothly back into its place.

"Ah yes, your friend Nolan. Partners in crime, aren't you?" She plasters on her smile, her eyes dark as she avoids his question.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Brooks?" He steps closer, but his stance is confrontational, the look on his face too smug for Emily's liking.

"Nothing much. All I need from you is an agreement."

"On what?"

"On saving your fiance." Her brows crinkle, a suspicious kind of anger, stewing beneath the blonde's calm surface. "And I have just the thing to help convince you."

Brooks tosses a thick file onto the glass table in front of her. Ice runs down her spine as she barely spares it a second glance. She knows that file much better than she wants to. "Come now, Ms. Clarke. How long did you think you could keep your identity a secret in the Hamptons?" The ice in her veins spreads to her temple, making it throb. She is completely caught off guard, vulnerable, but she'll be damned if she shows it to this man, who now has the power to destroy everything she's so carefully built. Fury burns in her eyes, a contrast to her frozen body. Her rage is partially directed at herself, at her incompetence in hiding absolutely everything that ever connected her to the name Amanda Clarke.

"What do you want?" She doesn't bother asking where Brooks got it, refusing to betray even the slightest of weakness in front of this man. She avoids his eyes with the question, much like when she offered Frank any sum of money to keep his mouth shut about his suspicions. The lawyer shrugs, a shark if there ever was one.

"To win my case." She scoffs and points at the manila folder, disgusted.

"You don't need that to win your case."

"True. The kind of lawyer I am, there are certainly other ways." She glares at him.

"I have one idea right now." She snaps coldly. A lighthearted chuckle escapes his mouth, as if the woman's life and her father's legacy is nothing more than a game. And to him, it is little more. A way to win his case. He doesn't care about exposing her; he is not like those in the Hamptons, who strive to cut down everyone in their path. But if he can use it as leverage, then you can bet he will.

"Oh, I'm sure you do. I'm sure you have a million ways to save your fiance and your childhood sweetheart." The mention of Jack ignites something inside Emily. She steps threateningly close.

"If you go after him, I will have you disbarred, humiliated, and discredited across this entire nation." He doesn't so much as flinch under a gaze that has broken men stronger than him before.

"Like your father was?" She refuses to betray emotion, especially if he's read the damn papers, if he knows what being taken away from her father did to her.

"Tell me how you know."

"Ryan Huntley and I have long traveled in the same legal circles." He paces around Emily as if to illustrate his point. Her unforgiving eyes follow him until he's back where he started. "I know David's lawyer well. Unfortunately, even our combined legal aptitude could not have kept your father safe from the clutches of Conrad Grayson." Her breath hitches in her throat at his name.

"So if you know the truth, why are you helping the Graysons?"

"I'm getting paid." She laughs, a cold, hollow sound reverberating from the house.

"That's it? You have no conscience?" His eyebrows raise; the man is rather amused.

"The same could be said of you." He sighs as her lips purse tightly, a heated anger running through every vein in her body. "Look. I am not a policeman, Ms. Clarke. I will do whatever my clients ask. Besides, your fiance, my client, wasn't even around at the time David Clarke was framed. Which is why I assume you're sparing him while you go about wrecking others' lives?" He raises an eyebrow. She was truly a fascinating woman, disturbed. It had shocked him to find her true identity, and he hadn't been shocked in almost 20 years.

"Does Daniel know?" Brooks faces her, smugness coloring his dark features. "Was he a part of this?" Her questions are straightforward, not laced with any sense of betrayal. She will be hurt, she admits, if it was Daniel's idea, but she will not be broken. She will not be like her father.

"Don't worry, Ms. Clarke. You can continue your little affair with the young Grayson. He is none the wiser about your true identity and deception. Though he is wary of a certain bartender whose place you frequent." Heat begins rising to her cheeks but a schoolgirl blush is the last thing she needs right now if she wants to uphold her power. "In fact," Brooks continues, "it was his idea." Her face betrays no surprise. But he can see the fear lacing her forehead with lines, the panic at her plan unraveling. "Fear not. It was only a reaction to his jealousy. He is only aware that I am informing you of your role in the trial. He doesn't know exactly _how _I will convince you."

"So why don't you turn me in?" The question is rhetorical. She knows that any effort he makes will be quickly crushed. They seem to be on the same page in that regard.

"As I said, I am not a cop. But I am a man of the law. Which means I cannot condone whatever illegal and desperate measures you may want to take to free both of your men."

"Oh like blackmailing me isn't?" She isn't backing down, she will carry out her plan of framing Lee, Victoria's "mini-Frank."

"I think we can both agree it's not an option for you to have this information out in the world." She fixes him with her eyes, so stark and furious that he almost takes a step back. But Benjamin Brooks has dealt with the harshest and most intimidating judge in the 2nd Circuit Court of Appeals. He is not frightened by the lithe blond woman.

"You would do anything for your fiance, correct?" She fixes him with a glare. "And I imagine he would not be too pleased to find you have been putting another man's safety above his." She opens her mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand. "You can save them both. But not yourself. Your choice." She doesn't respond. He doesn't care. "You're a smart woman, Ms. Clarke. I have no doubt in your ability to make the right one."

With that, he turns to the door, but pauses halfway there. Without turning to face her, he tears her last resort to pieces.

"By the way, I thought you might want to take a look at this. It might help you speed up your decision making process."

He slips a plastic bag into the folder; he's won and he knows it as he saunters our the door. She refuses to crumble at the encounter she's just had, and cautiously approaches the folder. Picking up the clear plastic bag, her frozen heart sinks. Pictures and DNA samples, labeled, processed, and ready for submission in court lay behind the plastic, all depicting one thing: Jack's bloody hoodie. She slams down the bag in frustration, her choice made. If there's one thing Emily Thorne hates more than anything, it's being manipulated.

Then Emily slowly walks to the fireplace and tosses in her file, watching in silence as the paper burn, turning into smoke.


	4. Chapter 4

_Present: Judgement Day_

Emily can feel a bead of sweat trickling down the back of her warm maroon sweater as she shudders against the cold in the courtroom. Everybody is simply sitting, waiting for the jury's verdict, but they're all too wound up to talk. She decides she needs a change of pace from the stress and anticipation; who knows how long the jury could take to deliberate. She locks eyes with Nolan, seated two rows behind her, and he gives a tight smirk and butterfly wave. She returns it with a genuine smile, her eyes darting to the courtroom door.

She meets him in the hallway, her heart racing, still thinking about the jury, the verdict, the trial.

"So. Still think it was worth it to perjure yourself? Now that you've seen how the arguments end?" She rolls her eyes at his familiar purr.

" I didn't _perjure_ myself, Nolan. I just gave the jury an...alternate course to think about."

"To save Daniel?...or Jack?" She fixes him with her steely gaze. "Cause you know, Ems, the way I hear it from a certain heritage-confused-Jackie-Chan, 'you can't save them both.'" She is about to respond when the doors swing open and a familiar face peeks out.

"What about me?" Jack asks, teasing but genuinely curious. Warm smiles light up both the blonds' faces.

"Hey buddy, how you holding up?" Nolan swings an arm around his friend's shoulders as Emily watches. The oldest Porter turns to her.

"Actually, I came to ask you that. Are you ok? The way you left the courtroom so fast I...got worried." Her gaze softens at his brown eyes; she can see Nolan watching closely for her reaction as she responds with a tight smile,

"I'm fine, Jack, thank you. It's...a lot to handle, but I'm hopeful."

"I was really surprised at your testimony, I can't believe Brooks went after you like that. He subpoenaed me; I was afraid-" he cuts himself off, remembering that he only told Nolan about Declan lying on the stand. He doesn't want to make enemies with Emily by revealing such a thing. She puts on her best confused face, but Jack is already uncomfortable. He slips out from under his friend's arm and slinks back into the courtroom with a, "well good luck," thrown over his shoulder.

Emily's expression switches the second they're alone.

"Brooks subpoenaed Jack? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"That's why I came over that morning, Ems. Jack would have been toast on the stand, but luckily you stepped up to the plate. Nice job, Batgirl." He purs. Her glare doesn't recede.

"What if I hadn't? Jack could have gotten himself thrown in prison! You can't keep things like that from me, Nolan!"

"Not like you had much of a choice." he grumbles, eyes changing from crystal to a burning sapphire. "I'll bet Brooks was pleased with your results."

She sighs. "How do you think he compares to Treadwell?" Her mouth is tugging upward in a smirk. He returns it with on of his own.

"Treadwell still wins weasel-of-the-year."

"More like decade." They share a smile before he returns to their earlier conversation, the apology escaping his lips in a sigh.

"Look, Emily, I'm sorry, ok? I didn't want the fact that Jack was subpoenaed to impact your decision." She rolls her eyes.

"Impact the decision my a-" he grips her arm tightly, feeling like he has to make his point now or never.

"Emily. You are engaged to a man who is standing trial for murder. Guy spends time in jail, he gets suspicious. I don't know if you realize this, but he is watching you and Jack _constantly _throughout the trial. You know my stance on it. I say dump the heir and go with the bartender-" He flinches at her look, then points to her face. "There. You know you can't. So all I'm saying is that if you mean it, stick with Daniel. I don't want to see you or Jack get hurt. Who knows what your fiance's capable of these days?" She is about to respond when the bailiff opens the courtroom door with a flourish. The blonds turn in surprise, their billionaire demeanors slipping efficiently back in place.

"The jury has returned with their verdict." She shoots Nolan a simultaneously annoyed and worried look and gives his forearm a squeeze before power-walking back into the courtroom, just in time to see Daniel take his seat at the defense table. She steps directly behind him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and whispering,

"I love you," in his ear as she takes her seat. Nolan watches her chocolate eyes take in the 12 people who walk through the door next to the judge's bench. Ordinary citizens they are, not pillars of justice. But these people, her fiance's peers, will be the ones deciding whether or not Emily's vengeance continues along the path she's so carefully laid down. For her sake – and, admittedly, his own, because he'll be the one picking up the pieces of her broken plan if this falls through - Nolan hopes the Grayson heir is acquitted.

The partners in crime watch intently, two rows away from each other, as Daniel turns and touches the diamond on Emily's finger, stroking it. A gentle smile plays on her lips and she laces her fingers with his, almost glaring at the head juror, who hands the verdict to the judge.

"Will the defense please rise." Daniel slips his hand out of Emily's and stands with Brooks, who is calmly twirling a pen between his fingers. Emily's hand, missing Daniel's touch, darts out for comfort, and finds Jack's, but she pulls back at the last second, embarrassment and restraint coloring her features. He doesn't meet her eyes. The judge unfolds the verdict, gives a pregnant pause, and then reads in a clear, regal voice:

"Daniel Grayson, the court finds you not guilty of the charge of first degree murder in the case of Tyler Barroll." Daniel collapses onto the table in relief, as Victoria and Emily jockey for a prime spot to rub his shoulders and comfort him. Emily tries to meet eyes with her nemesis, but can see the ice queen's gaze facing elsewhere, towards the jury box. A certain juror by the name of Ann Woodbury is glaring coldly at her, clutching her purse in her hands which Emily bets has every picture in existence of the son that Lee threatened. Emily watches Victoria's eyes follow Ms. Woodbury out of the courtroom, neither of them breaking the gaze. She turns her attention quickly back to Daniel, who stands up and hugs his mother, then her, planting a tender kiss on her lips. She smiles against his mouth, relief flooding through her. They exit the courtroom hand in hand, Emily glancing pointedly back towards Brooks. He salutes her, a wry gesture that she finds herself amused at, despite her feelings toward the man.

Daniel turns to her outside the courthouse in the freezing winter air, clutching her hands tightly. She is exhausted after answering the million questions the paparazzi had for her, avoiding the ones regarding specifics about her testimony.

"Let's get married." He says confidently. She laughs.

"I think jail might have gotten to you a bit, Daniel." She moves her diamond-clad hand closer to his face, and he shakes his head, still smiling.

"No, I mean let's do it soon. The sooner the better. I don't want to wait until June."

"Are you sure?"

"Emily...what you did for me in there, I...I honestly can't believe it. Nobody has ever believed in me or loved me that much." Neither of them mention his behind-the-stage part in coercing her into it, and she keeps the smile on her face, relieved that as deep as he is in the waters of his father's company, he is still oblivious about her truth. He looks at her with pleading eyes. She doesn't really need to be convinced. The sooner she is in with the Grayson family, the sooner her plans can continue to move forward.

"If you want to, Daniel..." he stares at her with an expecting face. "Then I would love to. Yes." He laughs and lifts her up, spinning her in his arms as she clutches his neck with her gloved hands. Her smile is genuine, it sparks of relief at his acquittal, contentment at the knowledge she is back on track, and she will admit, excitement at a wedding. She knows she can't let herself relish it too much, let herself become deeply involved and filled with regret later, but her girlish excitement at a wedding is one she won't suppress. Her course is set, she's survived this much and she can't and won't stop now.


End file.
